The Game
by jibber59
Summary: It's the chance of a lifetime, and it could change everything.
1. Chapter 1

"Ezra Standish, your time has finally come," he thought to himself, fighting to maintain his cool, detached poker face as he laid down the winning hand on the table. The others around threw down their cards in disgust, but with only mild grumbling. Time had proven the man to be an unnatural force when it came to gambling, and they all knew when they took their places at the game they were fighting the odds. And, as usual, they lost.

Chris Larabee and Josiah Sanchez sat at a nearby table. To the casual observer they were simply two men having a quiet conversation and ignoring the activities around them. To anyone who knew them, their reputations or this town, it was clear the men were watching very closely, making sure no one took exception to the all too typical run of good luck Ezra was having. He had been all but unbeatable lately, even more so than usual. And while there had been a time, not all that long ago, he would have been called out over such good fortune, his reputation as a stellar gambler had overtaken his questionable history.

"Gentlemen, while this has been a pleasurable, not to mention profitable evening, I believe the hour has come for me to take my leave of the game. I enthusiastically anticipate future soirees of enjoyable companionship."

"Huh?" a couple of his fellow card players looked at him confused.

"He's saying good night." Buck Wilmington walked up to the table grinning. "Can't you ever just be straight forward Ez?"

"Ez-ra! Really Mr. Wilmington, would one additional syllable be so difficult for you to pronounce. And as for my use of appropriate language for any specified circumstance, I can only express that precise etymological practice has benefitted me on more than one occasion, so I shall continue to be deliberate in my choice of phrase."

"Imagine them fancy words get you into as much trouble as they get you out of."

"Probably more," added the dusty cowboy who had just walked into the saloon.

Ezra grinned. "I would wager, Mr. Tanner, that the numbers are likely balanced."

"Don't take the bet Vin. Ez-RA can't lose tonight."

"I stopped betting against our boy ages ago Buck."

The trio had made their way over to the two men who had been closely watching the game. "Might we join you Mr. Larabee?" Without waiting for the nod that followed, they all pulled up chairs. "I assume you are able to confirm the honesty of my playing this evening, given the scrutiny with which you monitored the proceedings?"

"Weren't your honesty we were worried about," came the casual, and to Ezra, mildly surprising reply.

"I can assure you I would have been more than capable of observing any attempts at manipulation from the others at the table."

"No doubt of that Son," spoke the second observer, a big man whose physical presence belied the gentle soul beneath. "But it was likely that those others might take exception to your ongoing good fortune. Wouldn't want to see you busted up so close to the biggest poker game of your life now, would we?"

"I am not your son, Mr. Sanchez, as I apparently must continue to remind you, but I do appreciate your vigilance on my behalf. And, in reply to your unspoken question, yes, this evenings success has tipped the scale on my financial requirement for admission to the event. With only two days to spare! I assume Mr. Larabee that there remains no conflict that would restrict my attendance?"

"No, Ezra – there's no reason you can't go lose all that hard won money of yours." He smiled slightly at the offended look Ezra gave him. "In fact, I was thinking some of us might join you on the trip. Be interesting to watch some of the wests best gamblers all in one place."

"So you anticipate trouble."

"Not from you Ezra, but you do seem to be a bit of a draw for it, 'specially when you're on your game." He ignored this offended look as well.

Buck laughed. "He's right about that. You can get more folks mad at you in a shorter time than just about anybody I know."

"The gentlemen in this tournament are not rubes fresh off the stagecoach Mr. Wilmington. They are professionals. There will be no quick tempered fisticuffs resulting from the loss of a hand."

"Can't believe you have won – and saved - $1000 to buy into this game of yours." Vin had a mix of awe and concern in his voice.

"Actually, I have $1100, plus small amount of travelling money. Always good to have a bit in reserve. And, to be honest, it wasn't all fresh winnings Vin. With such a short advance notice to amass the funds, I had to resort to alternate sourcing. Some was in the bank –"

"You had savings?!" Buck was stunned.

"- and I sold off a few small gemstones I had been holding onto for the proverbial rainy day," he finished, ignoring Buck's interruption.

"How much you figure you could win?"

"It is a winner take all tournament – no one leaves the table with money except the winner through each round. And as there are expected to be 25 participants…"

"25 THOUSAND dollars." Buck shouted, making heads turn in the saloon. "Damn Ezra – what are you gonna do with all that money?"

"He ain't won it yet Buck." Vin said angrily. "No guarantee he will either."

"Mr. Tanner, are you trying to jinx me?"

"Course not Ezra, just sayin' is all." Vin tried to get the neutral tone back to his voice, but couldn't hide the anxiousness from his eyes. He had no doubt that with $25,000 in his pockets, Ezra would not be coming back to his dollar a day job in Four Corners. Likely wouldn't even ride through town to collect his things. And as much as he wished the best for his friend, the thought of losing the gambler from the team hurt him more than he would have expected.

The silence at the table told him the others were having the same thought, and not likely for the first time in Chris's case at least. Their leader had a resigned look to his face. He did expect there was a very good chance the seven were soon to be six. Even without the win, this game was going to put Ezra back in contact with the element he had left behind when he reluctantly agreed months ago to join with the unlikely group of lawmen. As much as the man had 'reformed' himself over time, had made a solid and surprising effort to fit into the team and town, there was a look that came into his eyes when he laid down a winning hand than nothing else could inspire. Gambling was in his blood, and returning to their straight and narrow path was anything but a sure thing. And if he beat the odds and won? There was no doubt in Chris's mind, really in the mind of any member of the team, that life in Four Corners would be a lot less lively.

Ezra broke the uncomfortable silence that had settle over the group. "Well gentlemen, I am going to secure my winnings and retire for the evening. I have an early day tomorrow, as Mr. Larabee has so thoughtfully assigned me the morning patrol for my last round prior to my rendezvous with destiny. Good night." He raised his fingers in salute as he left the saloon.

Buck looked at his long-time friend. "Think there's anything we can do to change his mind about all of this Chris?"

The man in black snorted slightly. "Poker game of a life-time? What do you think?"

"I think this is going to be a lousy week."

"We got no right to ask him not to go, but still…"

"You're right Vin. We can't ask him." Josiah's voice was thick with sadness. He had an inexplicable bond with the gambler, and felt in his heart he was losing part of his family. The departure of any of the team would be hard, but Ezra – that was going to be the worst. "This is too important to him."

"Thought **we** were important to him."

"Knock it off Vin. You ain't five years old. You know damn well this is what he was born to do – in his blood. It's not fair to him for us to try to tell him otherwise."

"I know. Don't have to like though."

"None of us like it." Buck agreed. They sat quietly at the table for the remainder of the evening.

"Well here's a sight I never expected to see." Buck grinned as he walked into the livery. "Ezra Standish saddled and ready to ride at – what - 7 o'clock in the morning. You musta been the fella who woke up the rooster!"

"I can rise and be prepared when the motivation is sufficient, and in this case I have 25,000 reasons."

"Ez?" JD walked toward his friend, getting as close to Chaucer as the horse would allow. "Win or lose, you are coming back here – right?" Buck had spoken to the junior member of the team the night before, pointing out to the eternally optimistic youngster the realities of this adventure. It hadn't entered his mind that the money would change things.

He looked down from his mount at the almost desperate look on the young man's face. He was angry that someone had finally voiced the concern they all had, and at the same time relieved to be asked about it. Relieved to realize, in glancing at the others, that they were asking, they did care.

"Of course I shall return Mr. Dunne." A smile of relief spread over the lawman face, only to be extinguished with the phrase that followed. "All of my possessions are here, and there are some I would not wish to leave behind."

"So you're leaving. If you win you're leaving us."

Ezra didn't answer immediately.

"Think we'd all like an answer to that one Pard." Vin stopped saddling up as he talked. Everyone was in the room, and the silence was overwhelming.

"I promised you, Mr. Larabee" he said looking over to the man, "that I would not run out on you again."

"This ain't running Ezra. That promise wasn't meant to be a lifelong sentence. You want to move on, any of us want to move on, all you got to do is say so. I'm not gonna put a gun to your head to try to make you stay." He looked the gambler in the eye. "Having said that, I – we – would like you to stay. Understand why you wouldn't, but we'd sure like it if you did."

"I believe, gentlemen, we are counting chickens not merely before they hatch, but well before the hen has laid the eggs. I promise you JD, victorious or vanquished, I shall return here prior to making any further decisions on my future. Does that satisfy you?"

"For now." JD pause, not knowing whether he could voice the next thought with any conviction. "Guess I ought to wish you good luck."

"Your good wishes, however lacking in veracity they may be, are appreciated. Mr. Jackson, have you something to add before I depart?"

The healer had stepped up beside JD. He, Josiah and JD would be staying in Four Corners to keep the town guarded in the absence of the remainder of the group.

"I do wish you luck Ezra. I know you've wanted a chance like this for a long time, so I hope you get whatever it is you need out of it. Really."

"Thank you sir – that means a great deal. Mr. Sanchez, any observations?"

"Just what Nathan said works for me too. We can talk about anything else when you come **home**."

Ezra couldn't miss the less than subtle emphasis on the last word, but merely nodded his acceptance. "I shall see you all within the week, fates being kind, with my pockets much fuller." He rode out, knowing his three travelling companions would follow. They did, after glancing back with discouraged looks at the men staying behind. They watched their friends ride, so focused on the foursome that none noticed the others at the edge of town watching the departure.

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	2. Chapter 2

It was a long day, with little conversation along the way. Those efforts had been somewhat strained, each man lost to their own thoughts and, although none would have used the word, fears. They arrived at Lancing Falls, roughly the halfway point on the voyage, mid-afternoon. By unspoken agreement the horses were left at the livery, Ezra providing strict instructions on the care of his spoiled charge, before the saddle weary men headed out to investigate the town.

A quick look down the dusty main street showed few real options to choose from, so they agreed to meet at the saloon later for dinner. Chris proceeded toward the sheriff's office to check in. He learned long ago it was better to notify the law of the arrival of 'a notorious gunslinger' than to allow rumors to run through town and cause unnecessary concern, and possibly trouble. Vin wandered toward what appeared to be the general store, more just for something to do than to satisfy any needs he had. Buck decided the saloon made a perfectly acceptable afternoon resting place, and made a straight line heading there.

Ezra strolled the streets, taking in the limited sights to see. As much as he praised the merits of Chaucer, and the excellence of the horse's performance, the fact remained he had been hours in the saddle, and that was not his favourite seat. The chance to stretch his legs was much appreciated at this point. Nearing the edge of the town he saw a few houses that were clearly intended for long term residence more than the more transitory rooming house nature of the buildings he had seen previously. One such home had a small hand written 'estate sale' sign on the gate, next to the 'Hanson Residence' plaque, and his insatiable curiosity once again got the better of him. As he neared the porch, he startled the older woman reaching to close the door.

"I am sorry madam. I had no intention to alarm you. Are you alright?"

"Thank you, young man, just fine. Figured I was done with lookers for the day. Don't know what possessed me to think anyone here would be looking to buy household items. Wishful thinking, I guess." She shook her head.

"Might I be allowed a brief glance at the objects you have. I am always in the market for items of interest."

"Don't see any harm in it." She stepped out of the doorway, allowing him to enter.

It was a simple home, tastefully decorated to suit the purpose. The first thing he noticed were the boxes in the corner. "I can only presume you have elected to move on from this fair hamlet?"

"Don't really have much choice. My husband passed a few weeks back, and I can't see myself staying here alone. My son doesn't think it is a good idea either, and he expects me to move back east to live with his family. Besides, once they can find a new doctor to take Henry's place, I imagine he'll want the house and office space."

"My condolences on your loss ma'am. Town doctor. I'm sure your husband was much respected in the town. We have a healer in our community, who is greatly appreciated, and who I am very proud to consider a friend." He smiled at the thought of the reaction Nathan would have to the label of friend. It was not a connection either would have foretold. "There are times I am sure the feeling is not entirely mutual." She cast a puzzled look at him. "Let it suffice to say I am not the world's most co-operative patient." She smiled knowingly.

"Yes, Henry dealt with many of what he called impatient patients. The town did not really appreciate what they had, in my opinion, but that never stopped him from doing his best for them. Wore him down over time. Finally wore him out. Excuse me for a moment please." He handed her his handkerchief, which she used to dab the corner of her eye as she stepped out of the room.

Ezra allowed the woman a few moments to pull herself together again as he wandered the room. There were a few items of interest, and if he had been in the market much of the furnishing was also pleasing, but he had no need for such encumbrances.

"Forgive me my foolishness Mr. –?" she begged.

"Forgive me my manners ma'am. Ezra Standish, and your have nothing to apologize for. Am I correct in interpreting that those items not packed away are the possessions with which you are willing to part?"

"You can't tell me something here has caught your interest?"

"Indeed. I am taken by the small stand on the table at the door. It is a hat stand, is it not?"

"Yes," she shook her head with a sweet sad smile. "Henry loved his bowler hat. Foolish looking, but he thought it made him look distinguished. Can you imagine?"

"I most certainly can." Ezra smiled as well, picturing JD with his own bowler perched on his head, trying in vain to look older than his years. "If you have no need for the stand, I would be happy to take if off your hands." Mrs. Hanson nodded, not entirely sure he wasn't merely humouring her. "And this photo frame?" he pointed at a small silver frame on the mantelpiece.

"I've no need for that either. Packed up the memories I want, so if you can make use of it…"

Ezra was picturing the photo Chris kept in his billfold of Sara and Adam. It was one of the few tangible memories he had of his late wife and son, and the photo had been creased and worn over time. Why it had never been properly framed was a puzzle to the gambler, but he was willing for the moment to assume that if a suitable frame could be found, it would be used. This frame, simple and elegant, looked to be the right size and fashion to suit both the photo and its owner.

"If I may be so bold as to inquire – do you have any of your late husband's medical supplies you might be willing to part with."

"Really Mr. Standish? Are you planning a new hobby?"

"I assure you ma'am, I am not trifling with you. As I indicated, we have a healer in town. He is not a doctor, though Lord knows he would be an excellent one if the circumstances would have allowed for it. He would do honour to your husband's memory I assure you. His status, and our town funding, make it difficult to come by all the supplies or equipment he might use, and I was hoping if you might consider parting with some. Of course, if these are items intended for your son, then I have no desire to commandeer them."

She smiled. "Again, I need to extend an apology. I should have seen from the way you spoke of your friend before that you would be thinking of him when you asked. And as for my son, he's a banker. No need for medical supplies in that line of work. Please, take a look in the office, and if there is anything you think might be helpful, you are more than welcome to take it. Henry would be so pleased that his tools could continue to serve a purpose."

With a nod, Ezra entered the space. It was sparser than he had expected, but then he shouldn't have been all that surprised. A country doctor would not have the trappings of a major medical facility. A black physician's bag sat on the corner of the desk. The bag alone would provide Nathan with an appearance of authority that he didn't need, but did deserve. Opening the bag would be like Christmas morning for the man. A stethoscope which appeared fairly new, a suture kit, scalpels and any number of other items that Ezra could not name, and to be truthful, was not sure he wanted to know the purpose of.

Equally valuable was the shelf of medical books that sat behind the desk. A quick count showed 14 reference sources that would likely prove to be golden.

"Books aren't exactly up to date Mr. Standish." Mrs. Hanson entered the office.

"Perhaps not, but they certainly are an improvement over what we have now, which is nothing. I would be very much interested in purchasing these from you Madam. I will arrange for them to be packed and shipped to Four Corners, along with this bag if you are sure you wish to part with it."

"No need to purchase these things Mr. Standish. Like I said, it would give Henry pleasure to know they're being used. I'll let you give me $10 for the other items – the stand and frame, but these things should be passed on for the good of your community."

"You, madam, are a saint."

"Henry would have disagreed with you. And you sir, are a smooth talking fancy feller. But don't think for a minute I don't see through it. Heart of gold underneath it all, deep underneath."

"Please madam, such slander to my reputation will not be tolerated." He smiled and winked at her.

"You get on with what you have to be doing. I'm sure you're just passing through town here, so you best go get yourself a meal and some rest. Write down where you want this sent, and I'll package it all up for you, including the other things. Four Corners you said. There a stage through here late tomorrow going that way. This will be on it."

Ezra handed her the slip of paper, with $20. "I said $10 sir."

"The extra will cover any costs for the stage. Please madam, I was raised as a gentleman," he lied, "and do insist on doing things properly. My mother would be appalled if she believed I had taken advantage of you," he lied again.

"Well, we mustn't disappoint your mother. She certainly did an excellent job raising such a gentleman." As Mrs. Hanson escorted Ezra to the door she saw his eye go to a small table in the corner. "Is that a book stand?" He moved closer to the wooden platform, cleanly finished and carved with delicate scroll work framing a simple cross.

"Yes. A patient gave it as payment to my husband a number of years ago. Henry was usually paid in trade rather than cash, but we managed. He never had much use for it, but he always treasured the sentiment that someone would have gone to the trouble to make it for him."

"It is an exquisite piece of work. Such beautiful carving."

"Yes, it is lovely. Forgive me, but it doesn't seem like the sort of item you would have much use for."

"No, while I admire it deeply, it does not really suit my lifestyle. I was simply imagining how it would look at the front of a church, with a bible upon it."

"Might I assume there is another friend you are thinking of at this moment."

He simply smiled with a slightly wistful look. "I have presumed on enough of your memories. I would never consider purchasing an item that your husband held in such high regard. I shall take my leave of you madam, richer for the opportunity to spend this time with you."

"Oh, one moment – I left your hankie in the back room." She scurried away to get it, returning a moment later folding the fabric.

"It was very nice to meet you sir."

"The pleasure, madam, was entirely mine. This town is losing a fine lady." He raised her hand an gave a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, tipping his hat as he left. He desperately hoped she would not find the $200 he had secured in a box destined for her new home until she was settled back east, and his address had been long forgotten.

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	3. Chapter 3

The foursome sat at a corner table in the saloon, looking forward to dinner and an early evening. Ezra barely glanced at the poker games being played at several tables, knowing the remainder his reserves were required for the days ahead. He was now $100 short of the required buy in, but was certain he could find a pick-up game before the main event to replenish the depleted cache of funds. Buck considered sitting down to a game, but his heart wasn't in it. He'd had a much quieter afternoon that he'd expected. His mood picked up considerably as a young lady sashayed her way to the table.

"What can I get for you handsome gents?"

"Well now darlin…"

Chris cut off his friend. "You got food here?"

"Beef stew."

"That's it?"

"No, but it's the only thing you'd actually want to eat." On getting confirmation nods from all four she turned to leave.

"Bring a bottle of whisky and glasses too." Chris added.

"Something decent, not the house brand please." Ezra smiled at the knowing look he received from the waitress. He reached into his pocket to hand her a coin. "You understand?"

She looked at what he had pressed into her hand and smiled. "Absolutely sir."

"Feeling generous tonight there Pard?"

"Not particularly Mr. Tanner. I would simply prefer not to make myself ill on 'rot-gut" prior to the game."

A few moments later the food and drink was placed on the table. Buck gently grabbed at the young woman's arm, holding her in place for a moment.

"You forgot to favour us with your name darling."

"Well you can call me just about anything you'd like handsome." He let go of her and she brushed her hand over his cheek. "Anything at all." He watched the wiggle as she walked away.

"I guess we know where Mr. Wilmington will be spending the evening. Tell me Mr. Tanner, will you be taking a room, or sleeping under the stars."

"Sleep better outside Ezra – you know that."

"I never assume. Mr. Larabee?"

"Found a rooming house this afternoon. Got a spot held for you too, if you need it. Was going to just stay here, but they're taken up with activities for the night."

"Thank you for your consideration on that Mr. Larabee. I shall indeed take such lodging. Not up to my standards, I am sure, but definitely an improvement over the other options.

The rest of dinner remained as quiet as the ride had been, and once finished they parted ways after agreeing on another early departure the next day. Ezra alone remained at the table, slowly sipping on what turned out to be a less than stellar, but still surprisingly decent whiskey. He watched as two customers followed Vin and Chris out the door, but when they turned in the opposite direction he gave it no further thought. He shook his head in mild amusement as Buck whispered in their waitress's ear. She spoke quietly in return, and with a wide grin he headed up the stairs. Ezra watched as she went to the bartender, who smiled widely himself after she spoke with him. Before she reached the stairs, she saw Ezra signal her to the table, and shimmied over to him.

"Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but I am presuming you expect to spend the evening with my traveling companion?" She smiled, a bit suspicious of where the conversation might be headed. "Have no concerns my dear. I have no desire to disrupt, or heaven forbid, join your plans. And I would like to ensure you have no intention of shattering the illusions of Mr. Wilmington. You see, he sees himself as quiet the lady's man, and I have seen sufficient evidence to support his claim. He maintains he has never paid for – companionship. I see no reason for you to presume to spoil his record, do you?" He pressed a bill into her hand as he spoke. Looking down at the denomination her eyes went wide. "Mister, for this kind of money, he can have whatever illusions he wants." He added a smaller bill to the first. "I presume you will be required to share some of this with the bartender."

"You sure you don't want to…"

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I would prefer a quiet evening."

"Suit yourself. Buck's a lucky man."

"I'm certain come morning he will agree."

"That ain't want I meant Mister." She gave Ezra a rare genuine smile as she left the table and headed up the stairs.

Glancing around he could see one of the poker games had broken up, but two were going strong. It took him only a moment to confirm the players were quite amateur, and further establish the stakes were too small to reimburse the funds he needed, having depleted his coffers earlier in the day. He had no doubt he would be able to make back the $100 - no - $125 he now needed. There would be any number of opportunities prior to the main event. There always were at such functions. Deciding to save his focus for those games, as well as the featured game that was now less than 48 hours away, he finished off the drink he was sipping and prepared himself to leave.

The realization someone was approaching from behind caused him to subtly shift his arm to prepare the derringer secured in secret there for release. He relaxed when he recognized the voice.

"Standish, your old reprobate! What are you doing in this corner of hell?"

"Mr. Needlemire. Or is there a new moniker by which I should refer to you these days?"

"Needlemire is just fine. Course you could call me Charlie you know."

"Charlie it is - for old time's sake. What on earth possessed you to abandon your New Orleans gaming establishments for this inhospitable locale?"

"Wasn't so much a matter of choice as a matter of survival, if you get my drift. If I recall, you and Maude left many a town under similar circumstances. How is your mother? Can't imagine her in this back water town."

"Our recent communications show mother to be well. I have not spoken to her for some time, and we have not worked together for a much longer period. There has been a bit of a divergence in our interests, and in our visions of future endeavours."

"Do tell? Heard you turned to the straight and narrow, but I assumed it was all part of a bigger plan. Maude's 'darlin' boy', a lawman? Must be snowing in Hell."

"Well, let us just say fate occasionally deals an unusual hand to everyone in the game. I have not, however, completely abandoned the ways of my youth. This journey, as proof, is to attend the rather high ante poker tournament in River Bend."

"Ain't heard of no tournament going on."

"Starts the day after tomorrow. My understanding is a $25,000 winner take all challenge. Not the largest in the land, but for this part of the country, it is a sizable action."

"Sure would be. That's why I can't figure why there's no talk of it. I mean, it is out of my league these days, but the side action would be more than enough for word to have filtered down. You sure about this."

"I received a telegraphed invitation, followed by a confirmation from a relatively trusted source." It did concern him though that no others had heard of the game. Perhaps it was a private event. It was, after all, invitation only. Still – word of even that event should have spread in these circles.

"Don't let my ignorance bother you none Ezra – I'm not in the loop out here all that much yet."

Ezra just nodded, and prepared again to leave the table. Before he could stand, Charlie spoke again, with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Did you know John Holmes is in the territory?"

It was a struggle to keep his poker face in place. Holmes was a name he hadn't heard in ages, and would have been happy to never hear again.

"Really? What has inspired such a plague to contaminate this region of the country?"

"Same thing as drove me out here – too many people back home wishing to recoup losses, although in his case I wager the law on his trail had more to do with it."

"He has been in violation of statutes any number of times in the past. Dare I enquire why the law looking for him would suddenly motivate his move west."

"Charges aren't for con. He's wanted for murder. Guessing you didn't know he was around."

"No, I was blissfully unaware of his presence."

"You think he may show up at this game of yours?"

"I would not expect so. Gambling against such experts was not his forte. He has neither the skill nor patience for such a challenge. I would wager he is selling worthless mines to travellers or running comparable swindles on the unsuspecting."

"Hear he's got folks with him now. Dangerous as he is on his own, if he's got a posse…"

"Yes, the man does have an astonishing lack of principles, even for one in our business. Murder now too. One of his marks?"

"Yup, and the partner he was working with. Guess he didn't want to split the proceeds." He paused for a minute. "So, you think he's still pissed with you over that business in Baton Rouge?"

Amongst other things. "I have no doubt of it." Without allowing for further discussion he rose to excuse himself from the table. "I fear I must make an early night of it my friend. It has been a long day, with more riding ahead, and I must be fresh to take on my competitors."

"Course – best of luck to you. Remember your friends if you when big!"

I assure you, that is my intention, he thought to himself.

Ezra strode quickly toward the telegraph office. The hour was late, but towns such as this thrived on night trade, and he was correct in his assumption the office would be open. He sent three quick messages to fellow gamblers who he felt should be aware of the event. He hadn't planned to contact the players expected to see there, as they all would be on their way, but at the last minute sent missives to two likely candidates. Lastly, he sent one to the man who was to be hosting the event, phrased in such a way not to raise too much curiosity he hoped. Given the hour, he didn't expect any response, but told the man on duty he would be buy first thing in the morning to check. When told they would be closed, he asked that any response be left at the rooming house for him, and left a generous tip to encourage compliance. A last minute intuitive hunch spurred him to add a short message to JD warning him to stay extra vigilante.

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	4. Chapter 4

Ezra left his room at the ungodly hour of 6:30 the following morning. He'd tossed and turned most of the night, only partially due to a bed that had more lumps in it than could be found in JD's oatmeal. His instincts were telling him something was off about this tournament. He should have followed up on it in more depth before ever leaving Four Corners, but the rush to his ego over being invited in the first place had blocked any common sense. He could hear movement as he passed Chris's room, but didn't bother to stop. Checking at the desk he was disappointed, but not surprised to find no messages waiting.

It was then a surprise to see the operator from the night before walking toward him as he left the building. "Got one response for you pal." He handed over the message and walked off, not waiting for a reply. Ezra opened the envelope and once again was not really surprised at the response. Marcus 'King' Walker knew nothing of this tournament. That was impossible. There wasn't a card came anywhere west of the Mississippi, regardless of the stakes, that Walker didn't know about. Things were definitely not as they had appeared a mere 24 hours earlier.

He headed toward the livery to check on Chaucer and rouse Vin, who most likely was camped nearby. Actually, it was more likely he would find the man preparing his own ride before searching out some kind of breakfast.

The livery door was open a crack, and Ezra heard muted voices from within. The tone set his sixth sense for trouble on high alert. Peaking cautiously through the opening, he spotted the same two scruffy men from the tavern the day before. It was painfully obvious they were up to something, and likely something no good. As he got close enough to hear specifics, his concerns were confirmed. He could see an unconscious man in the corner of the livery, and from the clothing, he knew exactly who it was.

"I'm telling you that's Tanner, just like that feller reckoned yesterday. He's got $500 on his head." The bearded member on the duo scratched on his chin as he spoke, smiling slyly. "That's easy money for the rest of the trip to Frisco."

"Not so easy," replied his friend. "The guy is slippery from what I heard. And we'd have to go to Texas to claim it all. Plus, I heard the bounty might not even be on him anymore."

"Poster's still out, so it counts. And we can turn him in along the way to some other lawman."

"You know they always take a cut – we could lose half the money. And like I said, he's slippery."

"Yeah, but the money is good dead or alive. That would make things easier." The bearded man began to reach for his weapon.

Damn. No question now, it was time to intervene.

"Gentlemen, I do believe I have an offer that will make your lives easier." The two hunters turned quickly, hands on their guns, though neither drew. "I could not help but overhearing. Clearly you have no desire to retrace your travels to Texas when your intention is a direct route to the west. Therefore, I propose that I pay you the reward sum of $500 and I will claim the bounty to reimburse my investment. You have your funds with no further delays."

"What's in it for you mister."

"Merely the satisfaction of being of assistance to fellow hunters."

"You ain't no bounty hunter. So I figure you have some other reason for this. Maybe this guy's worth more than the poster says?"

"No such luck gentlemen. It is simply a case of good timing. I wish to "head out of town" as you would say, and claiming this bounty will give me the excuse needed. Works out best for all, except of course this Tanner fellow."

"500 each."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You want us to leave it's gonna cost you $500 each. Whatever this is about, it looks like it's worth it to you." The second bounty hunter grinned, showing several gaps where teeth should be. Ezra made a point of not returning the smile and showing his gold tooth for fear the cretin would add that to his demands. He sighed to himself, realizing he had overplayed his hand. He should have offered low and made it look like he was doing them an invaluable favour. Dreadfully out of practice with the art of the con in would seem.

"$600. I need the balance of my funds for supplies."

"$900 not a penny less."

"$700."

"We'll take him ourselves."

"$750?" The duo looked at each other and nodded, as Ezra sighed to himself in relief. He would have handed over every penny if need be, and had that not worked, he was ready to do whatever was needed. This solution, while painful, was at least quiet. Gunplay would have drawn far too much attention. "I assure you gentlemen, if I encounter you again, or you tell anyone else of either this deal or Tanner's presence in the area, you will not survive long enough to spend any of these funds."

"Hey – we made a deal. We ain't about to cheat you."

Ezra merely huffed in response. "Oh – one more thing. Who told you of Mr. Tanner's presence? I like to know who my competition is."

"Nobody told us. We was in the saloon and heard some guy say to another guy that your guy looked like a guy from the poster." Ezra took a moment to decipher that. "Fine. Wait here for 5 minutes and I shall return with your money."

It took only half that time for him to retrieve the funds from his boot. He looked longingly at the hard won cash. He had no intention of changing his mind about the decision, he just desperately wished he'd had time to develop a second plan. But he knew he had to rid the town of these two before others became aware of their presence. Much of the population here appeared to be far less than honourable, and clearly news of Vin's pardon had not reached the area. The trouble that might arise from the confrontation was exactly the sort of incident he had promised Chris they would avoid on this trip, not that such a detail seemed all that relevant at the moment.

"Here you go. Now, on your horses gentlemen."

"We weren't planning on leaving town right away."

With a quick movement of his arm Ezra's derringer popped out of his sleeve, aimed directly at the bearded man's head. "Then I think you will be changing your plans."

"Reckon we will." The two turned and quickly mounted with Ezra watching every movement. He'd lowered his arm to make the weapon less obvious, but a look at his body posture showed he was ready to fire if the need arose. Fortunately, it didn't, and a few moments later the bounty hunters were riding off.

Ezra hurried over to the unconscious man in the corner, greatly relieved to see signs of movement as he arrived. Vin lashed out at his touch, but stilled when Ezra spoke. "I think you would be best served to save your energy for recovery rather than attacking me."

"Ezra? What happened?"

Clearly Vin had heard nothing of the deal brokered on his behalf, and the gambler could see no purpose in getting the man agitated about it in his current condition.

"I am not entirely certain, but it appears I startled a couple of miscreants who presumably intended you harm. They rode out in a hurry, much to my relief. I think we would be best served to make a similar departure. Are you feeling up to riding?"

Vin stood, a bit dizzy, but overall feeling better than he'd expected. "Yeah, I'm OK. Why were they after me?"

"Were I to hazard a guess, I would go for the obvious – the bounty."

"But I ain't wanted anymore."

"Yes, but not everyone is aware of that change in your status. And as the original poster did indicate your continued good health was not a requirement, I think it is best we assume there will be many out there who continue to operate under the belief that a bullet in your direction will earn them $500. It would seem these gentlemen were willing to at least attempt to take you alive."

"Well, thanks for the rescue Pard. And you're likely right. Sticking around town may not be the best plan. Besides, the faster we get on the road, the sooner you get to your big game. I'll get the others."

"Fine, I shall start to prepare the horses," he spoke to Vin's back as he left to gather the team. He would wait till they were all together to share the news that there was no game. He strode over to Chaucer, gently greeting his four-legged friend.

"You must promise me that you shall never let word of this out to another." The steed gently nuzzled at his owner's neck, sensing the mood. "Three months of games and gambles, saving every penny for just this weekend, and now I am again virtually without funds. What has become of me my friend? It was so much easier when I cared only about the two of us."

He reached across the stall to get the bridle and settled it into place.

"But, I will concede, it was lonelier. Not that you aren't a cherished companion, but these one sided conversations do get a bit tedious. Although most of the others I ride with are really not much more talkative. Including the gentleman at the centre of my latest folly. No, that's not fair. This was my idea, not his. I am sure Vin would be quite mortified to discover I had bought his freedom with my reserves."

"If mortified means mad as hell you got that right!"

Ezra spun rapidly at the angry shout, almost falling in his haste. "It really is not polite to eavesdrop Mr. Tanner."

"Cut the Mister crap Ezra. What do you mean you bought my freedom?"

"Nothing, I assure you. A poor choice of words is all."

"You don't make poor choices when it comes to your words." Chris now stood behind his friend, and Ezra could see the others approaching as well. "This have anything to do with why we're leaving town so sudden?"

"You didn't scare of them hunters – you bought them off didn't you? Dammit, answer me Ezra."

"I did what had to be done. They were discussing the dead or alive clause on the poster, and there wasn't time to get the others."

"So now you have half what you need to get into the game. How am I supposed to get you $500 in the next two days?"

"You aren't Vin. This was my choice, and you have no accountability in the matter whatsoever."

"Bull. This is on me and I'm gonna figure it out."

"It's on us." Chris corrected him. "We should have been more alert, and what you did, you did for the good of the team. It's on all of us."

Ezra tried to argue, but one look at the faces staring him down told him the futility of such an action.

"There is no game."

"Sure there is. We can figure this out. Got to come up with $500. Maybe we could get some games going here…

"No gentlemen. I mean there is no tournament. It is a con of some kind. I don't know if it was targeted to get me to River's End, or to get us out of town, but I have learned there is no tournament."

The men stopped digging in their saddle bags and looked at the gambler. Even his poker face couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes as he made the statement.

"There are," he continued, "likely easier ways to get my attention, so I can only assume we were being lured away. I sent a message to Mr. Dunne to be on the lookout for trouble, but I think we should return home with due speed."

Chris turned to Buck. "I'll get your ride ready, you go find us some grub."

Vin walked over to Ezra, hand out holding what cash he'd had on him. "Ain't much, but it's a start. Twenty-eight dollars. Don't fight me on this – you won't win."

Ezra reluctantly took the cash, knowing he was destined to have a discussion about this in the future.

"Aren't you going to add it to your stash?" Vin watched his friend closely, knowing Ezra was holding back information.

The southerner had been hoping to avoid drawing out the other funds, but having no excuse not to, he removed his boot and tried to quickly add the new cash to the roll. He had barely pulled his remaining funds free when Bucks hand covered his.

"I'm no banker, but that doesn't look like $600 dollars." He pried Ezra's fingers from the grip they had on the few bills there. "$105? Thought you said you had $1100?"

"He did – I saw it." Chris confirmed.

Vin looked at him with a blending of anger and guilt. "You paid them more, didn't you? Keep them quiet – chase them off. You paid them $1000? That's almost everything you have. Dammit Ezra – why would you do that?"

The response was barely above a whisper. "They were going to kill you. What else was I do to?" He stepped away and returned to saddling Chaucer. He felt Chris's hand on his shoulder and shrugged it off, not wanting to have to deal with any of them at the moment. This was not the way this was supposed to happen. The scene he had tried to ignore was playing out in front of him.

Vin thought he would have preferred to be taken by the bounty hunters than look Ezra in the face right now. They all knew how badly the gambler had wanted to be in this game. Now the game was gone, his money was gone and they knew trouble was waiting at home. Ezra's dream had turned into a nightmare, and it wasn't over.

Buck returned a few minutes later to a quiet group of riders. Not breaking the silence, he handed out biscuit and eggs sandwiches he'd had made up at the saloon, and mounted up, leading them out of the stables. As Ezra rode past Vin, he spoke again quietly. "Wasn't $1000. They got $750." He was not about to admit to bartering, but he need to add one other comment. "I would have given them all of it if I'd had to." He said nothing further as he spurred Chaucer into a faster gait, pulling ahead of the others. Vin watched, speechless. Chris rode by, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Guess we really don't get him – do we?"

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	5. Chapter 5

Late afternoon saw them waiting outside of Four Corners. The town would have looked normal below to most people passing by, but all four riders knew things weren't quite right. They'd been watching for 30 minutes, and had seen no sign of any of the three men left behind. Nathan's absence could be explained by a medical need anywhere in the area, but there we still too many other questions. There was no activity at Josiah's church, so clearly he was not working on the never-ending construction project. JD should have been outside the sheriff's office, where he normally sat and watched over his town when things were quiet. The town itself seemed far too quiet as well. No children in the streets, and few people milling about. Those that were outside seemed anxious, scurrying from building to building rather than merely travelling from one location to the next.

"I'm gonna ride in." Buck finally spoke.

"Not alone."

"Yes, Chris, alone. Look, Ezra can't come. He's supposed to be winning his big prize. Sorry Ez," he added, hearing the younger man almost silently sigh.

"No need Mr. Wilmington. This is not your doing. I shall save my anger for the perpetrators of the fraud."

Nodding, Buck continued "If there is something going on, we can't all ride in. I'll check around. You keep an eye on me, and if I don't come out of someplace, you'll know that's where the trouble is. Can't think of three folks I'd rather have covering my back, 'cept maybe for the three down there." With that, Buck spurred his ride into movement.

"Watch yourself." Chris spoke softly, worried his friend was riding into a trap.

"If they'd wanted us dead, they've had chances. This is about something else Chris."

"Doesn't matter Vin. He's riding in alone, and that's foolhardy."

They watched in silence as the he neared the town. The few people in the street gave signs of becoming even more agitated, as if trying in some way to signal him off. He rode ahead, apparently clueless to their efforts. Catching the eye of Mrs. Potter as she swept the steps to the store, he watched her glance to the saloon and shake her head ever so slightly. His eyes went to the jailhouse, and she shifted her hand leaving three fingers resting on the broom handle. She turned and went back to the store.

Now he was left to interpret. Did the three fingers mean that's where the other lawmen were, or were there three thugs waiting there? Most likely the form. The men were likely locked in a cell, hopefully just bound and gagged. If they were hurt, or worse, surely Mrs. Potter would have found a way to indicate help was needed.

He rode ahead, electing to tie up outside the saloon, hopefully demonstrating that was the main point of interest. They really should have worked out the signals in a little more detail. As he walked over toward the jailhouse, he removed his hat, punching up the crown to try to round it out. With a bit of luck, they'd interpret that as a bowler, and know where JD and the others were. He opened the jail door and walked in, the world going black as he felt the butt of a gun hit his head.

"OK – why is someone taking over the town?" Vin asked the others, knowing they had no better answer than he did. The fact that that was going on was pretty obvious based on Buck's actions. The motivation was a mystery.

"No prisoners there – at least not unless something happened since we left."

"Which cannot be the case, since our departure was pivotal to the abduction. Clearly someone knew us well enough to presume that at least some of you would accompany me on my folly. My addiction to the cards has led to Lord knows what catastrophe ensuing in the town."

"Knock it off Ezra – weren't your fault." Vin admonished. "You didn't drag us with you, and why would you figure you could take of a few days without 'catastrophe ensuing'. Not everything is on you here."

"None of it is on you Ezra. It's on whoever is down there."

"That may not be the entirely true."

Chris turned his stare back to Ezra. "What do you know?"

"Know? Nothing. But I learned last night there is a man in the territory who, given the opportunity, would gladly send me to my final reward."

"Hell, we all got a few of them around Pard."

"Yes Mr. Tanner. But John Holmes is the type of man to plan something this bizarre. He would take great satisfaction in using me as a pawn in his scheme. And, I fear, in hurting those around me to prove his power. Clearly he has no compunction putting the lives of the innocent in danger. And he must have the loyalty of several others to have taken the town like this while three of our number remained."

"Wouldn't need to be that many. Take a few hostages, especially if it happened to be folks we know well, like Mary or Casey, and the job would get easier fast." Chris focused on the action below. The town still looked abnormally quiet.

"You think he hates you that much?" Vin asked.

"Aside from costing him a sizable sum in a con gone wrong many years ago, he believes I am the sole reason he was unable to court and marry my mother. Foolishness, but it is nevertheless his belief. Yes, he hates me that much. That is why I can't help but feel there is more responsibility at my feet. I was the bait, and quite likely due to the fact these criminals knew me well enough to know I would succumb to their lure."

"Maybe, but that don't make it your fault."

Chris was tired of the discussion. "Look, we can play the blame game later. Right now, we gotta get down there. Vin, can you circle around to the east? Likely you can come in behind the church and work your way to the roof tops – get the best look at the town."

"Shouldn't be a problem. You gonna go south or west?"

"Whichever looks open once I get down there."

"And I shall come down the main street."

"Like hell you will!"

"Mr. Larabee, if I am correct, Holmes will not allow the others to kill me. That would be a pleasure he reserves for himself. His overconfidence will enable me to get close enough to remove him from the action."

"And your overconfidence will get you killed Ezra. I don't intend to let that happen. And what if it ain't this Holmes guy?"

"Any other troublemaker will have no reason to kill me. And Mr. Holmes will toy with me before taking any final steps. That will provide more than enough time for you to liberate the remainder of our company from confinement and ride to my rescue, assuming I have not already extricated myself from the ordeal."

"Assuming you're still breathing you mean. And just what does 'toy with you' mean?"

Ezra paused, looking away. "He fancies himself to be a pugilist, and I will concede he has a tendency toward the sadistic when sufficiently motivated. I don't know that he will necessarily feel the need to express that leaning on our citizenry, but I would prefer to limit the time he has to consider the option. That is why we really should not delay this action." As he finished, he spurred Chaucer forward. Chris grabbed at the bridle.

"We'll let you know when we're ready. You watch your ass down there. Don't do anything stupid." Ezra raised his eyebrows in questioning the order. "OK – don't do anything stupider than riding into a trap."

Vin moved his horse to block Ezra's advancement. "I owe you money Ezra. Don't you dare die and leave me with that debt on my conscience. You understand?" Ezra nodded, offering a two fingered salute to the men as he rode off.

"Gonna get himself killed, ain't he?" Vin said sadly.

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

He had intended to ride directly to the saloon, but at the last minute changed his plan, dismounting behind the livery. After removing his saddlebags and setting them aside, he spoke softly to his faithful ride. "Chaucer my friend, get yourself to safety in your stall. This bastard would shoot you to make me suffer, and I will not allow for that to happen. I shall see to you as soon as possible. If I don't come, please, be patient with whoever takes on your care. I know they will endeavour to treat you with the respect you deserve." He reached into a pocket, retrieving what he believed would be the last treat he offered, and sent the horse on his way. A few moments later he stepped to the main street and began his walk to the saloon.

While no one spoke, he could feel the eyes of the town on him. Some of the few on the street even made a restrained effort to discourage his path, but most were willing to let him pass, knowing one way or another what happened next would change Four Corners.

He looked around the saloon as he entered. There were fewer residents inside than he had anticipated. The far table was populated the banker, the undertaker and the town barber – the business community of Four Corners. A few local farmers who had the misfortune of being in town at the wrong time had been seated in the opposite corner. Near the stairs, Mary and Inez were seated side by side. Center to the room, back to the bar and facing the door was the man himself. John Holmes stood as Ezra entered, leaning on an ivory handled walking stick and grinning manically.

"Wasn't expecting you quite so soon Ezra my boy. Didn't think you'd figure out about the game so fast. Was a bit worried my only satisfaction regarding your part in this would be in your knowing the role you played as my pawn. Really mustn't underestimate you again, not that there will be any future opportunities. Please, come join me at my table. One of my men would be happy to get you something to drink."

"I am rather particular about who I elect to sit or drink with. You don't quite measure up to my standards."

"Ah, still the pretentious poseur you so want people to believe in. Do these folks know the real Ezra Standish? Shall I fill them in?"

"These people know my history."

"I seriously doubt that. You have shared with them the tales of scams you've run, people you've cheated? Lives you've ruined? No, not possible. They wouldn't be looking at you the way they are now if they knew the story. I have been filling them in a bit while we waited for the stage to arrive, but I saved some of the more salacious and detestable stories in the hope you would in fact be joining us."

"We know who he is now, and that's all that matters."

"I have warned you about speaking out of turn Mrs. Travis. Must I have one of my men demonstrate the punishment?"

"Really John. Beating on women? That is what you are reduced to now? My, how you have fallen."

"Still got way too much sass in you boy. Thought I beat that out of you last time I saw you. Gonna have to try again I guess." He took two steps closer before swinging the cane at Ezra's head. Inez screamed as the gambler hit the ground.

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

 _Thank you all for the continued kind words of support. I find it fascinating to read where you think this is going! And to those of you who thank me for sharing - just try and stop me! I will share if even just one person is still interested. MUST WRITE!_


	6. Chapter 6

Vin had reached to roof of the building next to the saloon when he heard the scream. He tensed, expecting to hear a gunshot follow, but there was silence. His approach had been made much easier thanks to the distraction of Ezra's ride into town. Holmes' men watched the arrival, and continued to focus attention on the saloon, believing that was where the action was going to be for the next little while. Many moved closer for a better view. Vin quietly crept up behind the man perched on the roof in front of him, tapping him on the shoulder. He spun in surprise, only to drop unconscious as a fist slammed into him. Vin quickly bound his wrists, securing him to a sign support and stuffing his mouth with a dirty bandana for a gag. Looking over the edge, he was able to spot the outline of a man in black, now able to move closer to the jail.

Nathan wasn't entirely sure he heard movement outside the barred windows, but when a soft bird call came an instant later, he knew either Chris or Vin was outside. He slowly stood and stretched, trying to look as innocent as possible. The man standing guard had, like all the others, switched his focus to the saloon. He glanced back quickly at the sound of movement in the cell, but assuming his captives to be securely locked in, returned to watching outside. He didn't see as four guns were passed through the window, along with the knife that a moment later flew across the room, catching him cleanly in the back and dropping him to the ground. The door burst open, and a slam to the head from the butt of Chris's revolver stopped him from making any further sound.

"Everybody OK here?" he whispered as he stepped to the desk to retrieve the keys.

Three heads nodded, and Buck groaned softly.

"You'll survive Buck." Nathan assured the big man again, before turning to Chris. "So do you know what the hell is going on?"

"Not entirely. You hear the name of the guy running the show?"

"Holmes." JD answered.

"Shit. Whatever else he wants, he's gunning for Ezra too, and the fool just walked right into the lion's den."

"On your feet Standish. I didn't hit you that hard. Wouldn't want to spoil my fun."

Ezra got to his knees trying to stop the room from spinning before attempting to rise further. He raised his hand to stop both Mary and Inez, who were showing their intention to come to his aid.

"Where are the other members of this community Holmes?" He momentarily dropped all pretense of civility as he struggled to his feet. "What have you done with the children? If you have harmed them…"

"Why Ezra, how could you accuse me of such a heinous action? We are southern gentlemen."

"I for one have never been more ashamed to be a southerner, and that factors in the war years."

Holmes snarled and raised the cane again, but this time Ezra was able to raise a hand, warding off the blow. He did hear a crack and fought against the reaction showing on his face as the pain shot through is arm. Standing beside the weakened man, Holmes pulled Ezra's weapons from him, pointing the revolver at the gambler's head.

"How fitting it would be to blow your brains out with your own gun. Very satisfying." He stared into green eyes that refused to look away. "Perhaps later."

He stepped back, moving to the bar and leaning against it. Ezra watched every step, trying to read the room at the same time. He sensed most of the occupants would be willing to help if they could, but he was determined to see none of them had to put themselves at further risk on his behalf. He smiled to himself on hearing the long call of a whippoorwill waft through the saloon doors. The second bird call he'd heard, and far and away the sweetest sound of the day.

"So tell me Standish, are the remainder of your law enforcement team waiting somewhere for you to play hero? Obviously they don't know you well. I should bring over the gentlemen from the jail. Let them watch you grovel before I get rid of you once and for all."

"Better them than these good people. Holmes, if you have one ounce of southern honour left in you, release the women and children. They can be of no help to you now, and there is no need for them to witness what you have planned."

"You're serious aren't you? You walked in here, gave yourself up, to save these folks. That's just sad Ezra. You were so much more interesting back in the good old days. You're dear mother would be terribly ashamed of you." It seemed like so much more than 24 hours ago when Mrs. Hanson had said the exact opposite to him. In his heart, he knew Holmes had it right.

"Children are at the church, with a couple of my men watching them. Once I get what I want from the stage, we'll be on our way."

"And the folks here, the ladies?"

"Ah, now Ezra. I've been talkin' with them since you've been gone. These two here seem quite fond of you. I don't think we should dismiss your admirers quite yet. Never would have expected to see the day someone worthless as you would have two such lovely women holding you in high regard."

"More than anyone has ever had for you at least." Ezra didn't know if goading the man was really the smartest option, but at least it turned his attention back away from Mary and Inez. Chris and Buck would never forgive him is something happened to either woman, nor would he forgive himself.

"Now you know that's not true Standish. I coulda had me a wife. Coulda been a happily married man if not for you." He pointed the gun again.

"What, you think mother would have married you? Are you insane? Mother had no more use for you than she did for any other of her trophies. Once you had served your purpose you were history to her."

"Lies. She loved me. Would have come with me if you hadn't gotten in the way." The man became more crazed with each sentence, moving closer to the target of his anger. He was close enough to swing at him again, the cane hitting in almost the same spot on the already broken arm. This time the pain did drop Ezra to his knees, and he looked up only just in time to see another blow aimed at his head. He pulled back, and the weapon struck the side of his head and bounce on his shoulder. As much as he longed to make a move against his tormentor, there were still too many armed men in the saloon standing ready to take out the innocent. He continued to provoke the man to keep attention on himself for a few more minutes. The bird calls had told him Chris and Vin had secured the release of the others, and were at this moment likely taking out the gunmen scattered around town. Then next call would mean they were coming into the saloon. He only needed to stall a bit longer.

"Believe me Holmes. If mother had wanted to go with you, she would have abandoned me in a heartbeat. It certainly would not have been the first time she had done so. No, Maude didn't go with you for the simple reason she had far too much taste and good judgement to spend a moment more with you than was needed." He tried to step back from the oncoming blow, but was too woozy from the head wounds to react in time. This hit slammed into his leg, and he dreaded the thought his knee was shattered. The pain that shot up his leg led him to believe that had to be the case.

"She laughed later about how truly pathetic you were."

With a roar Holmes pulled his gun, but to Ezra's dismay he turned and pointed it at the table where Mary and Inez sat paralyzed in shock at the beating they had witnessed. Knowing he had no choice, and praying that everyone would be able to duck, Ezra screamed at Holmes while ratcheting his own hidden Derringer into his hand. He fired the shot off quickly, but his injuries had him off balance and just slightly slower than usual. He hit his target, but wasn't the fatal shot he'd hoped for. Holmes spun, the women forgotten and fired three shots in rapid succession, dropping Ezra to the ground.

He did not get the satisfaction of seeing his victim fall, as shots fired by Chris and Buck from the doorway killed him instantly. JD and Josiah fired from the back of the saloon, taking down two more thugs. As Holmes fell, his rest of his men dropped their own weapons, recognizing they were no match for the firepower and the anger of the lawmen.

Nathan ignored everything else as he charged toward their fallen comrade. Blood was already pooling beneath him, and the white shirt was rapidly turning crimson. No one moved, waiting to hear the words they feared. Two bullet holes were clear on his chest, and the third was a gut shot. At close range, there was only one outcome.

Which is why Nathan's voice held a hint of relief and a lot of confusion when he spoke. "JD, get me some towels and my supplies. We're gonna need water to clean him up. And a blanket to make a sling – carry him to the clinic."

"He's alive? That ain't possible." Buck stared at the floor, and was almost knocked over by Vin charging into the room.

"He OK – Ezra OK?" He stopped short at the sight of the blood. "Damn, DAMN."

JD was the first to snap out of it and run to follow Nathan's orders. Within a minute they had all made the requested moves, and Ezra was gently being lifted onto a blanket. He was bleeding badly from the stomach wound, but the chest injury seemed less damaging. Nathan tore the shirt back to apply pressure directly and froze in place. "What the hell?" Strapped around his chest were sheets of leather, cut down from two saddle bags. Padded to be thick and bulky, they were still barely noticeable under the layers of shirt, vest and jacket. They hadn't stopped the bullets, but it looked like they slowed them enough to minimize the damage.

Buck grinned and looked to Chris. "He leaves nothing to chance." Chris gave a tight smile back. He wasn't at all certain the protection would prove to be enough.

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	7. Chapter 7

Three hours later the town had started to return to a semblance of normalcy. Families were reunited, damaged windows were boarded up and the streets had been cleared. The stage had arrived on time. No one got off, and after unloading a blanket wrapped bundle and four boxes for delivery, three addressed to Nathan and one for Ezra, it pulled out of town. No one could fathom what Holmes had been waiting for. The 6 men sitting in the jail cell offered no clarification, claiming ignorance of the final goal. They knew only they were to be paid when the job was done, so didn't care about details. Townsfolk stood guard over them, allowing the lawmen to wait together for news.

Buck and JD had finished picking up the mess in the saloon, and remained restless waiting for Nathan to update them. Chris sat with Mary and Inez, both still to shocked to do much else.

"That makes twice he stepped into the path of a bullet meant for me. It really is a bad habit he has." Mary sipped slowly at some sherry Chris had insisted on pouring for her. Inez had tossed back a whisky shot after Ezra had been carried away, but had not moved at all since. She now spoke for the first time.

"Meant for both of us Señora. He saved both of us. And all the others too. Estúpido!"

"Ezra? Not sure I'd call him stupid." Chris looked at Inez.

"Not him. Well, yes, him too, coming in here like that. But that – that – Bastardo! Trying to tell us Mr. Standish was a bad man. Tried to tell us about the 'real' Ezra Standish. Estúpido!" She stood abruptly, pulling the apron from her waist and wiping her face dry. "We know the real Ezra Standish, and that man, that monster was – was mierda." She stormed into the back room and began slamming pots and pans to vent her anger.

Buck allowed himself a nervous laugh. "Remind me never to make that lady mad at me."

"Think that ship has sailed Buck." JD teased.

They all went quiet when Vin came into the saloon. Saying nothing he went straight to the bar and poured a large shot of whisky, gulping it back. He spoke without turning.

"Been a long time since I seen anybody gut shot that bad. Nathan said he lost a lot of blood. Maybe too much. Chest wounds didn't help none, but those stupid pieces of leather seem to have kept it from being worse. And the only thing worse would be dead."

Chris rubbed a hand over his tired, dusty face. "What about the rest of it? Looked like he'd been hit hard by that cane."

"Arm busted. Knee looks to be more or less OK, but likely cracked some. Won't know about the head till he wakes up, but since he was awake till he got shot, probably not too bad. It'll take a few more minutes to finish up, then Josiah will sit with him for a while. Nathan wanted to know if anybody in the cells needs doctoring."

"Buck slapped on a couple of bandages on two of them. They'll live – for now. Rest are fine till the judge sentences them to hang for trying to kill a lawman."

"Sounds good to me." Vin looked over at Chris, who was clearly beating himself up. "Ain't your fault Cowboy. We got in here as fast as we could."

"He's right Chris. You had to rescue the children first. Ezra would have never forgiven himself if you'd come for him and a child got hurt instead. You know that." Mary looked at the gunslinger. "Chris, you know that, right?"

"Knowing it and liking it are two different things."

It was less than ten minutes before Nathan joined them. The stress and fatigue was evident as he all but collapsed into the first chair he reached.

"He's holding on. Think I got all the bleeding stopped, but he's damn weak. He gets a fever and it might be too much for him. Chris, we gotta get a real doctor into this town. I ain't good enough to fix you guys up when it's this bad."

"You do just fine Nathan. He's up there breathing. That's all that counts."

"Si Señor. Mr. Standish thinks you are a very good healer. He will be most thankful for what you have done." Inez place a platter of sandwiches in front of him, and headed back to bring a second for the other table. No one had much appetite, but her glare convinced them not to argue. There was silence for a few minutes while they ate, until JD's curiosity got the better of him.

"So what'd ya order Nathan?" The healer cast a puzzled look at the young man. "There's three boxes over there for you. Stage brought them in. Stuff for Ezra too."

"I've no idea. I haven't sent for anything. Why would I?" He went over to the stack of containers. "Came from Lancing Falls. I don't know anybody there."

"Well it's not a mistake. Your name is on all three, clear as day."

"Better open them. The Kid here is gonna bust them open if you don't."

Smiling, Nathan checked out all three, then pulled one of his knives from its sheath and carefully cut into the heaviest. "Books? Who'd be sending me books?"

Chris had stepped up for the unveiling. "Not just books Nathan – look at the titles."

"These are medical texts. Oh my God, look at these. Chris, this stuff is amazing." He thumbed through the first one. "Anatomy, diagrams. Do you know what this means?"

"Well, whatever it means, I'm guessing this will make it even better." Buck had opened the other two boxes, and held out a medical bag for his friend. Nathan took it in stunned silence and opened it, his eyes lighting up at the contents.

"It won't make me a doctor, but it sure moves me a few steps closer. I don't get it."

"I do." They turned to Chris. Buck had passed him an envelope that rested on top of the black bag. "This all comes from the widow of Dr. Hanson, late of Lancing Falls."

"Why would she…?"

"Seems one Ezra Standish happened on the Estate sale." He looked down at the note and read.

" _Dear Mr. Jackson:_

 _While I do not know you, I feel you must be a remarkable man to have someone such as Mr. Standish taking such an interest in your healing practices. I only spoke with him far to briefly, but is was evident he thinks highly of you by his reaction to his opportunity to purchase these items for you. I say purchase, as he went against my wishes and left more than sufficient fund to pay for the few items (books and bag) that he selected. Because of this, and because I am sure my late husband would approve, I have taken the liberty to send along a few extra items that I trust you will be able to use._

 _I should return the $200 that was left for me, as he paid me $20 separately for his other purchases. However, I fear to do so would offend the southern gentlemen he shows himself to be, not to mention the caring soul he tries so hard to hide. I have no idea who he purchased his other items for, but they were clearly selected for people he cares about. They, and you, are lucky to have such a friend._

 _I hope you are able to put all of this to good use._

 _Sincerely, Rebecca Hanson."_

There were several moments of silence in the room. Vin was finally the first to speak.  
"Said he paid out $750 for me. The $220, that musta been before he knew the game was a set up. Left himself short anyway."

"He was risking his buy-in to the game of a lifetime to get this stuff? For me?"

"Reckon he'll argue it was for us. Getting better supplies for you helps all of us. But yeah – it's 'cause he has the faith in you." Buck smiled. "We all do." Nathan merely nodded, afraid his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

Chris smiled as he watched JD eyeing the remaining items in the corner. "Go ahead kid."

"What?"

"Open them. We all want to know, so might as well."

"Chris," Vin cautioned, "that ain't your call."

"You really think he'd mind? Go ahead JD."

The box was opened before Chris could have a chance to change his mind. Two items sat cushioned by clean rags. JD pulled out the larger of the two and tried to figure it out while the others sat and watched. Suddenly his face lit up.

"It's for me, isn't it? For my hat!" He removed the bowler and placed it with pride on the hat stand. "Well ain't that the neatest thing. That'll keep in nice and clean." He sobered suddenly. "Why'd he do that? It's not my birthday or anything. Getting Nathan the books and stuff, that makes sense. Why'd he do this?" He looked at them, expecting an answer.

"If I had to guess, it was the look on your face when you asked if he was coming back. Don't think he's had a lot of people care about him enough to ask in the past."

Mary had been standing quietly in the doorway, not wanting to intrude. She'd come to let them know that there was a crowd waiting outside for word on Ezra, and to ask Nathan to come ease their minds if he could. As she listened to Buck's answer to JD, she thought back on Ezra's comments to Holmes. "No," she thought, "likely his mother never showed as much concern as JD had with that one simple sentence."

She watched as Vin reached in and unwrapped a small photo frame. Nathan looked over at it. "Who would he get that for?" Mary knew instantly, and it took Chris only a few seconds longer to make the connection. He gently took if from Vin, while reaching for the billfold in his duster. Ezra had a good eye. The picture slid perfectly into the opening. "Damn fool thing for him to be wasting his money on," Chris mumbled, with no anger to match the words.

"Might as well unwrap the other." JD reached for it, but stopped as Josiah walked in. Nathan leapt to he feet but slowed as Josiah offered a faint smile. "Nothing wrong. No change. Mrs. Potter came up to look in on him. Seems half the town is waiting to hear how he's doing. She's sitting with him; I just came down to get some coffee. Going right back. What's all this?"

Mary slipped past, telling him she'd get his drink, while JD filled him in on the boxes. "Our gambler does have a hidden sentimental streak to him, doesn't he?" Josiah grinned. "Shows you how he really feels when you least expect it."

"Josiah," Chris spoke softly. "You need to read this." He'd unwrapped the bundle to reveal the bookstand, with a short note tucked into it. Josiah took it and read aloud.

 _"_ _Dear Mr. Standish._

 _I should admonish you for excessive generosity, but I won't. As I said when you left, you do your mother proud. She raised a fine son._

 _A blind woman could have known how desperately you wished to share this table with someone who obviously is very important to you. You will honour me by passing this along to that person. You are correct. It will look striking in a church with the Good Book resting on it._

 _With affection, Rebecca Hanson"_

His voice cracked as he read the signature, and he slowly rubbed his hand over the gift. "I don't deserve this kind of consideration."

"Right now I don't think any of us feel worthy." Buck acknowledged.

"How come he didn't get you anything." JD asked, before realizing how that sounded. "I mean, well, you-"

"Relax kid, I know what you mean. I don't think he was setting out to buy anybody anything. Think this is just how it worked out. Saw stuff that made him think of you, and he wanted to share it. Wanted you all to have something special, and he was in a position to get if for you." Buck paused, hearing exactly what he was saying. He thought back to the previous night. Had that really only been last night? He thought about the look on his lovely companion had given the bartender while Buck whispered his proposition in here ear. He smiled and shook his head. "Besides kid. I'm pretty sure Ezra came up with a way to get me something I wanted too."

"But he wasn't in a position to give us this stuff. He needed that money for the game."

"Guess he thought this was more important – we were more important. Ain't that right Vin?" Chris looked at his quiet friend.

"He give you something too?" JD asked.

"Nothing special," was the soft reply. "Just my life. Wish I could do the same,"

 ** _TBC_**

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	8. Chapter 8

Ezra was finding it challenging to open his eyes. He'd tried a few times, but they closed quickly in reaction to the brightness of the room. He chose to ignore JD's pleas for him to wake up, deciding he was far too tired to make any such effort. Later, when the room was darker, lit by a combination of lantern and sunset, he tried once again to rouse himself. Josiah was the voice this time, encouraging him with little success. The third time the lantern was the only source of light, and the voice left him no option.

"OPEN YOUR DAMNED EYES EZRA." Ignoring an order from Chris Larabee was a fool's choice, and Ezra was no fool.

"Might you lower your voice in deference to the pounding in my head sir?"

"You gonna stay awake this time?"

"I shall make the effort."

"Then I'll lower my voice."

"Ezra – you awake; you really awake?"

Chris growled. "Stop yelling at him JD – man has a headache the size of Josiah!"

"Both of you shut up." Nathan stepped up beside the bed. "Take it slow Ezra. Want you to try to drink a bit. You're pretty dehydrated."

"I don't think what I take in will stay in Mr. Jackson."

"We'll just keep doing it a tablespoon at a time. This book I'm reading tells me that is a good way to get water into an unconscious person. Reflexes let them swallow a bit at a time. Really good book."

"I'm gonna let the other know."

"JD, tell 'em. But tell 'em no visiting yet. I need to look him over, and I betting he'll be asleep again before I'm done. They can see him in the morning."

"Not too early Mr. Dunne."

"OK Ez – not too early." JD's grin lit the room more than any oil lamp could hope to do. 

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7 

It was a week before Ezra sat outdoors again. Josiah had carried him downstairs, much to his humiliation. It was worth it though to feel the sun on his face. He'd asked to be settled somewhere quiet, away from sight of the townspeople. Ezra was not ready to face them yet. Nevertheless, here he sat, on the veranda of the saloon, where virtually every soul in town was passing that day.

He remained mortified and embarrassed by all that had happened. That so many lives had been put at risk because of a disturbed man's quest for imagined vengeance. It was, Ezra maintained, only by the the kindness of the fates that no serious harm had come to anyone because of Holmes's obsession. He had finally summoned the courage to ask Mary what tales had been told about his early years, about his time with Holmes. She dismissed him, saying no one paid any attention to the rantings of an obvious madman. Ezra wished with all his heart he could believe that.

"Morning Ezra." "So good to see you up and about Mr. Standish." "Looks like you're recovering nicely Standish." "Mr. Ezra – can you show us a card trick – please?" Nathan remained close by making sure his patient didn't try to stand to greet every lady who walked by, and to discourage the children from pestering him for tricks. He practically had to tie him down when Chris came by riding Chaucer.

"Honest to God Ezra, I do not understand how you manage this beast. He's tried to throw me twice today. Sent JD flying yesterday."

"He simply requires the right touch, the right words. Isn't that right Chaucer?" The horse ignored Chris's handling and walked up to the railing, reaching his head out to meet Ezra's hand. With one arm in a sling it was difficult to maneuver, but Ezra managed to give a gentle rub behind the ears that had the steed all but purring.

"Nope – do not understand the relationship the two of you have." Chris dismounted and tossed the reins around the railings, knowing as long as Ezra was there Chaucer wouldn't budge.

"You're looking pretty good Pard." Vin pulled a chair up next to him.

"So I keep hearing. Given the way I feel I find that difficult to accept."

"Feeling poorly again Ezra?" Nathan leaned forward quickly, setting his text aside.

"No, Mr. Jackson, I simply mean I am bruised, battered, broken, and bloody. I would add tired, but cannot think of a synonym that begins with the letter 'b'."

"Bushed," Buck provided.

"Excellent. Thank you."

Nathan eyed him critically before settling back again. "OK, but the minute I see you wince, you go back upstairs."

"I do appreciate the warning." Nathan picked up the book again, but kept glancing back.

"Mr. Larabee – the 6 men JD said were in the jail?"

"On their way to prison Ezra. Enough witnesses that there really wasn't much need of a trial. Saved themselves from the noose by admitting everything they knew."

"Which did not include what Holmes wanted in the first place, aside from seeing Ezra dead."

Ezra sat quietly for a minute. Just as Nathan was once again ready to go into Mother Hen mode, the gambler started laughing. He held his side to try to lessen the pain, but couldn't seem to stop himself from shaking.

"What the hell – is he OK Nathan?"

"Relax – gentlemen." Ezra forced himself to calm down to still the panic he saw on everyone's faces. "I assure you – I am fine." A moment later he had his breathing under control again. The pain subsided to a degree, but he knew his brief bout with borderline hysteria was going to cost him at least one extra day in bed.

"I apologize for causing concern, but the absurdity of it all is simply too perfect."

"OK Nathan, those hits to the head were obviously worse than you thought."

"No, Mr. Wilmington – "

"For God's sake Ez – call me Buck."

"When you can pronounce both syllables of my name, I shall revert to your preferred moniker."

"That go for all of us – Ez-RA?"

"I suppose it could – Christopher." He suppressed a smile at the growl he heard.

"So what was so damn funny that you practically ripped out all the stitches I put in you?"

"The stage. He was waiting for the stage."

"But there was nothing special on it." JD thought back to the items Ezra had purchased. "Leastwise, nothing he'd see as special."

"It's not what was on it, it was what should have been on it. How he found out I suppose I shall never know, but there was a traveller scheduled to arrive, who's plans were changed just a few days prior to her departure."

"Her departure? You mean…?"

"Precisely Chris. Mother was scheduled to be on that stage, but cancelled as I was not going to be here, given I was to be at the poker game so elaborately dreamt up by Mr. Holmes."

"Hang on Ezra," Vin was having a hard time wrapping his mind around just how ridiculous this was. "He sets all this up to be able to see, or whatever, Maude, and ends up creating the very thing that kept her from coming?"

"Exactly Vin. I do not believe I have ever encountered a finer example of irony. All his efforts for naught."

"Came too damn close to his second goal – killing you."

"Yes, I suppose that would have had to satisfy him. I almost wish the afternoon had dragged on long enough to witness the arrival of the stage, with no mother."

"Yeah, problem there Ez is he likely would have kept beating on you in the meantime, and you wouldn't have seen much, being dead and all."

"True enough Mr. Wilmington. Perhaps it did all work out for the best."

"Dammit Ezra!"

"Yes Buck?" The mustached man sighed in exasperation, while Ezra grinned, then yawned, trying unsuccessfully to hide if from the others.

"That's it – you're done for day."

"Mr. Jackson, you said I would be required to retire to my bed if you saw me wince. That, sir, was a yawn. An entirely different social faux-pas."

"He's got you there Nathan." JD chuckled.

"Mr. Standish?" Ezra looked over at the new arrival, young Mr. Collins, the 8-year-old son of the telegraph operator. "You got a telegram sir," he said solemnly, handing the paper over. Ezra awkwardly tried to reach into his pocket for tipping change, but Chris handed over a coin before he could manage the act. "Thanks Mr. Larabee," the youngster called, running off to the mercantile in search of candy.

"Indeed, my gratitude as well." He fumbled slightly with the paper before getting it unfolded. "Oh my, no," he groaned.

"That don't sound promising."

"Doesn't, Buck, and you are correct. It would appear my telegram to 'King' Walker enquiring about the legitimacy of the poker tournament has motivated him to create just such an occurrence. Six weeks hence."

"I would have thought that was good news for you son. Now you'll get your game."

Ezra went quiet again, not responding to Josiah. He gazed into the distance while the others cast nervous looks back and forth, once again considering the possibility Ezra would be leaving them.

"I do not believe I will elect to participate in the event. The travel might prove exhausting, given my present state."

As much as he hated to encourage the gambler, Nathan couldn't let him believe a falsehood. "Really don't think it would be much of a problem Ezra. You keep healing like you are, and taking it easy, and in 6 weeks you should be able to handle the ride."

JD shot a dirty look at the healer. Why would he be encouraging the man to leave? Then he gave it a second thought, realizing it was selfish to try to keep him away from something he loved doing so much. And that after Ezra'd been thoughtful enough to get the nifty hat stand for him. The young man felt a bit ashamed of himself, and reluctantly made an offer. "I could ride with you if you need company."

"I appreciate the advice, and the offer, however such extended rest would hinder my ability to perform my assigned duties, and likely slow my return after the fact as well. That would not be fair to the rest of you."

"We can work it out Ezra. If you want to do this, we can work the schedule out." Chris too was reluctant to encourage him, but needed him to understand they all wanted him to have this special experience. They'd seen his disappointment in Lancing Falls, and seen the ultimate sacrifice he'd nearly made in the saloon. Whatever he wanted was just fine by them.

Ezra had not returned his gaze to the team, listening instead to their words. They were willing to let him go. Anxious in fact. He'd been correct in his concerns. His departure would be welcomed, and who could blame them after the nightmare he had brought to the town. He forced a smile to his face and looked at the others. It took only a few seconds for him to read their faces. Those smiles of encouragement were every bit as forced as his own. He only hoped he disguised his a bit better.

He focused on Nathan. "You do not want me to go the game, do you?"

"Not my place to tell you what to do, unless it messes with your recovery."

"Regardless, you don't WANT me to go. I know it isn't that you disapprove of my gambling. You know this to be an honest game with will participants who can afford their losses. So, there must be an alternate objection."

Turning to JD, he didn't even have to ask. The look was clear on his face.

"The rest of you gentlemen feel the same. You are concerned for the trouble I will get into, and that I will bring it back to our town yet again."

"Hell, no Ezra – that ain't it. Nobody blames you for what happened with Holmes. We all got people who would like to see us dead. If we didn't before we came to Four Corners, we've sure made enemies since. Stop beating yourself up about all that."

"Easier said than done Buck, although the thought is appreciated." He decided against dwelling on the subject. "It really doesn't factor into the decision gentlemen. Six weeks is simply insufficient time for all that would be required. Even if I am well enough to travel, actually playing the game with a barely recovered broken arm and the lingering discomfort of other injuries would make for a long and likely brutally painful session."

Vin looked at him, guilt evident on his face. "You've sat through a lot worse for a lot less. I know you don't want to say it Ezra, but fact is there is no way you can get together the money you need to buy into this. Might have been able to get a few hundred that fast, but around here, $1000 is out of reach. And you've got nothing left to sell."

"I believe we discussed this at the time. It was my money to do with as I pleased, and what I was able to do pleased me greatly. There will be no further mention of the matter."

"I can sell my wagon. Don't know that I'd get much, but there'd be something. Need my mare's leg, but I have a couple of other guns…"

"Mr. Tanner, if you even suggest such an asinine action again, it shall result in the abrupt and irreversible termination of our relationship. You can no more sell your guns than I could part with my lucky deck. I believe I indicated this conversation is concluded." Vin lowered his head, and Ezra pulled himself forward in the chair, wincing sharply but ignoring the pain. "Vin, please. Let it go. I do not for a moment regret my choice. I never will. There is no game, no venture, that would have been worth anything other than what I did. Can you not accept that from me? That friendship means more than money?"

Looking at the almost pleading quest for understanding in those green eyes, Vin suddenly understood exactly what Ezra was asking for. He reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, settling the weakened man back in his seat.

"I'm sorry Ezra. I never meant to offend you by suggesting anything like that. None of us put a price on friendship. Don't expect you do either. Thank you for what you did. I won't say it again."

No one knew what else to say. Chris found his voice first. "Speaking of money," Chris spoke, opening to break the awkward silence.

"Please don't Chris. I believe that subject has been exhausted."

"Not quite Ezra. Seems there was quite a bounty on your friend Mr. Holmes. He had four murder charges against him, along with a bunch of other folk offering up rewards. Total on his head comes to just under $1700. Now we all figured the man who fired the first shot to bring him down is the one entitled to the reward. And we decided nobody was gonna argue about that, didn't we boys?"

"Seventeen hundred? Really? But surely you gentlemen –"

"Did you not hear the 'no argument' part of that sentence?"

He nodded in acquiescence "Well that is an impressive sum. I would assume such bounties, coming from many and divergent sources will take quite some time be collected."

"Talked to the judge about that when he was in town. He already signed a note for the bank, guaranteeing the money is coming, so they can advance you what you need for the game. You got no reason not to go Ezra. You were going to do it a couple weeks back, and nothing has really changed since. What happens after is a discussion for that time, not now."

Ezra looked around with tired eyes. Chris was wrong, he realized. He had six excellent reasons not to go to this game, and many more very good ones when you added Mary, Inez, Nettie, Casey, Mrs. Potter and so on, and so on.

He barely stifled another yawn as the day caught up to him once again. He gave a small nod to Nathan, who read the cue correctly and stood to help his friend back to the comfort of a feather bed. As he made the move to rise, Josiah stood and was at his side in a moment, with Buck close behind.

"Gentlemen, while I appreciate and accept all you have had to say, I fear I will have to issue a negative reply to Mr. Walker's invitation."

"You sure Ezra?" JD spoke tentatively. "That's one awful lot of money to pass up."

"You assume I would emerge triumphant from the contest."

"Course you would." The young man had infinite confidence in his friend.

"But the question arises JD – why on earth would I need $25,000 here in Four Corners? Utter folly."

He reluctantly allowed Josiah pick him up and head off for a comforting rest. The last sight he registered as he closed his eyes on the way to his room above the saloon was a wide smile spreading of JD`s face.

 _The End_

 _Thanks once again for taking your time to read this, and for all the amazing support. You people are wickedly good for my ego!_

 _Working on a couple more stories (for both Old West and ATF worlds). Hope to have something ready soon, as long as I don't get distracted by things like my job and housework! (That will never happen!)_


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